


For All It's Worth, You're Okay

by PalePeach



Category: Left 4 Dead (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Chaptered, Character Study, Gen, Zombies, a caring asshole, but like, i mean as much as i can, idk?? honestly, im just gonna write and see where it takes me, more tags to be added later, nicks an asshole, who knows not i, will i add a ship to this??, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2020-05-20 13:03:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19377259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PalePeach/pseuds/PalePeach
Summary: The zombie apocalypse isn't all its geared up to be. Saddled with people he'd rather be far, far away from, Nick is having a less than enjoyable time. He's heard far too many stories from a certain man who seems to just jump on his nerves in all the wrong ways. Stuck with two others who, much to his dismay seem to actually care about him —just making it all the harder to say goodbye once he can finally break away from them. Not for nick of course, he doesn't care, at least that's what hes convinced himself.He really needs a drink and for this whole apocalypse business to be over.





	1. Supply Run

It's not like he had anything better to do. Being caught in the middle of a zombie apocalypse left one with very little options for activities. So here he was, out on a supply run with the survivor he tolerated the least. Food and drink were running low back at the safehouse, where Rochelle and Coach decided the group’s next plan of action.

Currently they were stationed in an old, worn-down house, surprisingly clean for the apocalypse and all. Most houses stank with the stench of rot and decay. It could only be assumed the family had left instead of trying to board up and settle. Empty cupboards and few personal possessions seemed to have backed up the assumption.

Now, it's not like Nick hated Ellis— Hell, the kid had helped him out a few times. He was a half decent shot, too. But God, was he ever annoying. No amount of complaints or threats seemed to deter him away from Nick, either. The damn hick did enough talking for the rest of the survivors, had probably spoken more than all of them combined.

The irritating sound of his voice broke the silence that, honesty, Nick would rather they remain in. “Y’know my buddy, Keith, got locked in a supermarket once. He tried to escape but-”

“Ellis!” Nick sharply cut in. Ellis, who was leading the way, turned to walk backwards and faced Nick. Nick gave him a bitter look that spoke ‘shut up or only one of us will be returning from this trip’. Ellis raised up his arms in surrender.  
“Shit, okay.”

He turned back on his heel to walk forward again and continue on leading the way. The supermarket was making its way into view. Ellis picked up his pace slightly and Nick, albeit begrudgingly, followed suit. Both of them were hungry, and rationing what they had the last few days they were on the road only assisted that hunger. No doubt Coach and Rochelle were starving back at the safehouse, which was all the more reason to get supplies and get back as soon as they could.

Yep, feeding the group. That was it, Nick convinced himself. It definitely wasn't to get away from being alone with the broken record player of a man. Not at all.

Nick pulled himself back out of his thoughts when Ellis stopped abruptly. Nick almost crashing into the back of the other man.

“Ellis, what the hell-”

Ellis shushed him, drawing his hand up to signal Nick to move over to cover slowly. They ducked behind a wrecked car, and Ellis lifted his head over the hood to look in the direction of the supermarket. The walking undead— of course, they expected that, even though the walk over was quite barren. But a tank, the hulking beast of a zombie, growling, pissed off, and exactly where they needed to be? That was, to say, a little less than expected.

“Goddamnit!”

“Nick! Keep it down,” Ellis whisper shouted, shooting him a glare. “You tryna’ get us killed?”

“Maybe.” Nick snarked back but lowered his voice. “What do you plan we do overalls? Cause’ if we go in guns blazing we’ve basically signed our own death warrants.”

“I know, I know,” Ellis waved his hand around Nick’s face. “Jus’ give me a sec, I’m thinkin’.” He took his bag off and dropped it on the pavement in front of both of them. What was there to do? There were flares in the bag, which could be used as a distraction. But how long it would last them and how well it would work to alert the tank’s attention was another question entirely.

Even if they did carry out the plan to distract the tank, they’d be confined to using melee weapons; guns would end up drawing attention right back to them, and becoming a tank’s minced meat dinner wasn’t in the plans for today— or any other for that matter.  
Ellis explained the plan to Nick, who begrudgingly agreed. It was the best plan they could come up with, what with the limited resources they had to work with.

“All right, we go in, get the essentials and then we get the hell outta there. I doubt we’ll have much time.”

Ellis nodded in response as he took position on top of a half brick wall. Nick took the machete he had on him in hand, preparing himself to make the run.

Ellis loaded the flare gun, setting his aim upon a car in the distance. The windshield smashed to bits. Luckily, the seats looked like some type of fabric mesh, which would be flammable enough. Hopefully, a little fireshow would give them the time they needed to get in and out.

Ellis gave Nick a questioning look, silently asking if he was prepared. Nick nodded and set his stance to get ready and quietly rush to the supermarket. The silence grew heavy as Ellis raised the flare gun up, waited two heartbeats, and then took the shot. As the flare landed in the car, he quickly ducked behind a tree.

The pop of the gun drew the tank’s attention. It growled loudly and turned its mass to the direction from which it came. The flare easily set the car aflame. Fire devoured the insides as flames danced out of broken windows and doors. The tank spotted the fiery wreck and set off towards it, large body crashing against the pavement as it ran.

With the tank now running to its arranged target, Ellis and Nick shared a look and set off to theirs. A few zombie stragglers were left behind in the tank’s wake, but were picked off easily by the two. Reaching the doors, and picking off a few more zombies, the pair packed up their bags with what they needed.

Nick scanned the shelves —tiny novelty booze bottles lined a far back shelf near the cash register. Nick snatched one up and slipped the bottle into his suit pants pocket— a little drink for later wouldn't hurt. He’d made the trek here with an absolute annoyance of a man, he deserved a reward. He packed up the final few items he could manage to stuff in his bag, when both him and Ellis were startled from their activities by a loud crash.

The tank had made it to the burning car and, unhappy with the results it had wrought, threw it over on its side.

“Oh for fu- Time to leave kid!” he shouted out to Ellis, who promptly snatched up his bag and turned to run out, when he froze in his tracks. Nick came up to his side. The tank stood, looking straight back in their direction, hissing, snarling, and absolutely seething. A second passed and it felt like time had gone to a standstill; the pair looking to the tank, and the beast staring straight back at them.

Time resumed as it let out a vicious roar and lurched itself forwards, speeding back to its new prey. At that moment, Nick yanked on Ellis’ arm and ran with him to the back of the store. There sat a door behind the registers counter. Nick jostled the handle; locked. Of course, just his luck. Beside the door and a little ways to the left, there seemed to be a back room. He signaled Ellis and together they rushed into the room.

It was sparse and littered, much like the rest of the place. Lit only by the sliver of light seeping in from under the door. In the distance, much closer than before, the tank could be heard snarling, barreling down the street. Nick scanned the room as Ellis got out his shotgun. In the limited light Nick spotted a door. Holding out hope it wasn’t locked, he pulled it open, and revealed a set of stairs.

Up to the roof it was. Maybe the tank would lose them if they managed to slip out of sight.

Nick pushed the door closed and locked it —not like it would help if the tank wanted its way up, but it eased his mind and, hopefully, it wouldn't notice the door anyways, thanks to the decay in its brain. They shuffled up the staircase, pushing the door at the top open as well. The roof, thankfully, was clear.

Looking over the sidewall, though, they gained another problem. The tank’s rage and destruction had attracted mobs of the infected, drawn by the chaos. The store was slowly becoming surrounded. Inside, the tank thrashed about, knocking over shelves. The sounds of crashing and breaking glass pulled more attention towards their location.

“Shit, shit, shit, we gotta get outta here.”

“Really? I thought we’d stay awhile. Have a party.”

“Real funny there, Nick.” Ellis deadpanned. Of course Nick had to be difficult. But he was already searching for a way out. Ellis rounded the roof, looking down at the side of the building. In the back sat an open dumpster, not ideal in the least, but from how far up they were, landing straight on pavement was significantly less preferable.

“We can jump down from here.”

The bags of trash looked plush enough, nothing sharp or hard looking lying in the bin. 

“Sneak out northeast of here and circle back around to the safehouse.”

When he turned to look back, Nick had already made his way to his side. He looked from the bin, to Ellis, and then back to the bin again. He grimaced.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…” 

Ellis shot him a serious expression and Nick sighed audibly, running his hand down his face.

“This is a joke,” he mumbled under his breath, mostly to himself. “If I end up smelling disgusting, I swear to God I’m making you hand wash my suit.”

“Sure, Nick.” Ellis smiled as he shook his head. He propped up his foot on the wall and lifted himself to squat on top of it, handing his gun down to the gambler to hold. He took it without a word and gestured forward.

“After you.” A smirk plastered on his face.

Ellis threw his bag down first, a test of sorts of his landing place. The bag landed with a small bounce, trash bag giving way underneath it. That was good enough for him. He turned himself and lowered his body down to hang from the wall, looking down once to the bin to make sure he was aligned. He took in a breath then dropped.

Landing with a ‘plop’, he crawled out of the bin, retrieving his bag.

He looked back up to Nick, who was climbing up the wall. Once up, he threw the shotgun down to Ellis, then dropped his bag into the bin as well. He did the same as Ellis and plopped down into the bin. A sound of disgust bubbled up from his throat and he made haste on getting himself out. Christ, it smelled of rotting fruit and mold that held a stale air to it. The smell had better wash out, or so help him God, he’d never let ellis hear the end of it.

Without another word, they both started the walk back to the safehouse. More than a few zombies littered their path, drawn in by the noise. Nothing that couldn't be handled by a swift decapitation, and all normal infected as far as they could see. They rushed their way through the crowds though, since encountering any abnormal infected would definitely become a problem.

Nick wasn’t sure about Ellis, the kid had an abundance more of energy than he should’ve, but Nick was sure as hell done being chased for today.

ㅡ

Arriving back at the safehouse, the sun was hanging high in the sky. Nick hit his fist against the door. Two sharp knocks followed by a pause then 3 more. Nick waited a whole 3 seconds before speaking loudly.

“Hey, you two wanna let us in?” 

There was the sound of something heavy scraping across a wooden floor, a click of two locks being disengaged, and the door swung open.

Coach stood there, arms crossed, rochelle watching from behind him. He huffed out a laugh.

“Patient as ever, Nick.”

Nick let out a noncommittal mumble as he made his way past the taller man. Before Ellis even set foot into the house, he opened his mouth.  
So much for having peace and quiet.

“Coach, Ro, y’all won’t believe what happened!” He stepped in, goofy smile spreading across his face. Ellis clicked the locks back into place as Coach took care of pushing the china cabinet back. Rochelle strode up, face twisting into one of disgust.  
“Whew! I don’t think I want to with the way you two are smelling.” She waved her hand in front of her face, but shot Ellis a genuine smile. “What happened to you guys?”

Nick placed his bag on the counter, doing his best to drown out the dramatic retelling across the room. Leave it to Ellis to make an experience like that something to be excited about. He sighed, pulling out a snack from his bag, then dove into his pocket, taking out the little bottle of alcohol. He deserved this. A nice drink. He popped the cap and took a quick swig before stuffing it back into his pocket.

Coach’s booming voice pulled Nick from any more thoughts he could have, calling him over to the worn and scratched kitchen table, Rochelle and Ellis already standing around it. He strode over and looked down at the map placed upon it. Rochelle was the one to speak up about their plan. “CEDA has an evac zone over at the local university here.” She tapped a painted chipped nail on the map. “It’ll be about an hours walk. Me and Coach packed up already, and you two took care of the food, so we’ll be headed out soon. Sound good?” Nick and Coach both nodded and Ellis spoke out a “for sure.”

More walking. Sounds fun. Just what Nick wanted to do. He pushed off the table and rolled his eyes. He might as well clean up before they headed out, because if he had to breathe in more of the trash smell hanging off of him he was gonna go crazy. Damn, he needed a new suit, or an entire container of laundry soap. He couldn’t believe ellis suggested they jump into a trash bin, or that he actually went through with following along.

—

After cleaning himself, at least, the most he could, what with limited supplies and a shower with no running water. He rummaged the dresser in the master bedroom of the house. A plain t-shirt that wore a little, too big on him and a pair of jeans. Can’t complain in the apocalypse; you get what you get. He stuffed his suit in a grocery bag and shoved the bag into his backpack, joining the others downstairs.

Ellis padded down the stairs, clean and ready to go as well. Not like Nick had to ask, because Ellis had announced it.

“Alright, let's go an’ head out!”

With that, the survivors got their things and set off to the university, where CEDA —hopefully awaited them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Apologies for the long wait, I'm really bad at keeping up with personal projects.
> 
> I've had this chapter in the works for a long while and I thought I may as well post it so at least I have something else out there and that you know I haven't abandoned this story.
> 
> However I'm going to be re-writing and editing both chapters 1 and 2 before going forward, as I have been playing the game again more recently as well as looking into more lore and studying the characters. So this as well as chapter 1 are subject to change, but I'm going to post this chapter here pre-revision just so you have something to read for now. As well as that the main plot/details of the story are staying the same, I just wanna do a little fixing!
> 
> I'll also be hoping to write more fics for other fandoms and such in the future!
> 
> without further ado, please enjoy!! Also apologies for any grammar mistakes/errors.

Of course, of course the university had to be a bust. In all honesty, if Nick was being truthful with himself, he had expected this outcome. The tiny seeds of hope he had left for a CEDA evac died on his heart where they had sprouted. He knew he shouldn’t expect good things anymore, not after the shitshow that was his life, followed in tandem by the goddamn apocalypse.

He groaned outwardly to show his displeasure at the group's current situation. Rochelle sighed audibly from beside him. She had expected an outcome like this, being a reporter she probably knew better than most what to expect.

The university stood tall against the stark blue sky. It looked worse for wear, to say the least. Giant glass pane windows smashed to bits. Streaks of aged blood colouring the walls and floors, like someone had thrown a fit with a bucket of paint. The entrance doors were haphazardly covered up with wooden boards. No use in keeping anything out by the state of things. Or maybe it tried to keep something in. Nick pushed the thought out of his mind.

Ellis, who had been a chatterbox on the way, stood in silence. The most hopeful out of the four. His previous giddiness all but gone.

Coach spoke up from his spot beside Ellis, always the level headed one. “Well, no use in sulkin’ about it. We should head in and see if there’s anything we can find.”

A quick flash of determination spread across Ellis’ face before dissipating. Bounding forward on his feet he led the way into the university. The group followed suit, entering the decrepit school.

They made quick work of the boards,Rochelle prying what was left of them away with her crowbar.

The inside of the university held the stench of rot and decay, it made Nick’s stomach roll. “Hell, this is disgusting.”

Ellis chided in.“You can say that again. I’d rather get back in that dumpster” A look of disgust painted across his face.

The atrium was dark, power most likely cut to the building. A few dead bodies slumped on the floor, CEDA evac banners littering the walls. A large staircase stood in the middle, leading up to the second floor. Presumably up to the third, fourth, and fifth as well, if the building size was an indicator. Quite a bit of ground to cover. What a tedious task.

 

“It’d be best if we split up, cover more ground.” Nick pointed to the other three survivors. “You three can go look upstairs, I’ll stay down here.” Nick tried, in a desperate attempt to disengage himself from the group.

“Ha ha. Real funny Nick.” Eliss mock laughed. No harm in trying at least.

“Ellis honey, why don’t you search down here with Coach?” She looked to coach who nodded in return, it was more of a statement than a question for him to answer. “I’ll go head upstairs with Nick, see if there’s anything we can find. You two can meet us up on the third floor once you’re finished down here.”

Nick was thankful for Rochelle butting in. It was no secret the hick got on his nerves and Rochelle ever the median of peace that she was, could sense that.

The group agreed and then split off into their respective floors. Nick trudged up the stairs as Rochelle gave nick a quick side glance, almost as if she wanted to say something. She kept quiet until they were on the second floor, out of earshot from the others.

“Y’know, Ellis ain’t so bad, Nick.” Nick kept himself from rolling his eyes at her statement. He should’ve been smart and paired up with Coach instead. The man wasn’t anything close to what he would consider a friend, but he minded him the least out of the group.

“Clearly.” He bit back with sarcasm. Repositioning the rifle he held in his arms, willing away the uncomfortable feeling growing in his stomach. He really didn’t want to get into this. Not now. Not ever, actually.

Rochelle gave nick a raised brow and headed forward to scour the floor. “I can agree he can be a little,” she paused, choosing out her choice of words, “troublesome, sometimes. But he's good to have around.”

Nick didn’t grace her with a response. He was not going to make friends with the group, get all ‘buddy buddy’ with them. Least of all with Ellis.

“You could stand to tolerate him, at least a little.” Nick let out a dry, sharp laugh. “Yeah, not gonna happen. You try being out on a supply run with him, you’ll see how fast your patience snaps.”

Rochelle sighed, so much for trying to get the group to get along. She stopped in her tracks, ducking to a corner of the wall, pulling nick with her. “Over there, left corner.” Her voice was whisper quiet as she pointed to a figure, hunched over.

“I can’t tell what it is from here.” Nick’s response is short and hushed.

“Whatever it is, it’s not dead. Its moving.” The figure in the corner was moving just enough to spot the motions of its shoulders. Rochelle looked up to Nick, a questioning look on her face. He knew what she was asking without voicing it.

“We could shoot it, but that’ll probably draw us unwanted attention. Getting close enough for a melee kill is risky, but our best bet.”

Rochelle handed him her crowbar. “Right, yeah.” He rolled his eyes but stalked off towards the figure. Rochelle moved close behind him, back-up if necessary.

-

“Hey coach, y’think we’ll find anything worthwhile?” Coach looked to Ellis before looking back ahead. “I sure hope we do. Wouldn’t mind findin’ me a vendin’ machine.” He laughed, kept the air around them calm and sure. “Man, I haven’t had chocolate in forever.” Ellis drawled out the “er” sound. “Did I tell you bout the time Keith tried to make chocolates for his ma? Didn’t end well, y’see Keith can’t cook fer shit. Even worse at baking-'' Coach tuned out his rambling, he didn’t mind the stories. Coming from a highschool he was used to people talking his ear off. Most of the time people trying to get out of gym activities, acting like they just wanted to talk to their Coach. Thinking that they were duping the system and fooling Coach. Of course, he caught on, but he liked to humor the kids.

Tuning back into reality Ellis seemed to be finishing his story. “Anyways, that’s how he ended up in the hospital. Cocoa powder in his lungs and the kitchen looked much like this here school.”

“Quite a friend you seem to have there,” Coach smiled, “ain’t sure how you’re still kickin’ bein’ around him and his antics.”

“Y’see, I’m tough as nails, ain’t nothin’ gon take me down.”

Coach just smiled and shook his head, continuing on further into the university. Tables flipped on the floor in front of them, one of them broken in half, chunks of wood littering the floor. That was never a good sign. Coach strode up to one table still standing. On top sat jars, holding a sickly green liquid in them. Ellis reached out to grab for one, reading the label over in his hands. “Sample number 325, -’Boomer’ Bile…” he paused for a second as his brain recognized the word. “Ah, hell!” He threw it away like it had burnt his hand, disgusted with the contents. Apocalypse with all the blood and guts be damned, holding a bottle of vomit was the last thing he’d wanna be holding, much less happen to get covered in.

“Jesus, that's vile.” Coach spoke as the glass shattered on the ground a few feet away, expelling its contents onto the ground. “Don’t think throwin’ it like that was the smartest idea, Ellis.”

“S’pose not…” The crack from the bottle rattled off the walls, amplifying its sound. No doubt that would cause them unnecessary attention.

-

Coming up to the wracking body, faced toward the wall, Nick could hear garbled sobs coming from it. A witch of all things, fantastic. Her skin a greyish blue, blood splattered down her back and legs, with deep gashes accentuating her decaying skin.

 

He gripped the crowbar tight, raising it high to ready himself for the finishing strike.

The sound of clattering glass breaking apart on the floor startled not only him and rochelle, but the witch sobbing in front of them.

She turned quickly, spotting the pair. Nick swung the crowbar, but faltered as she lunged forward. He managed to hit her in the ribs, disrupting her balance. She fell on top of him, claws slashing wildly in front of her. Trying to gain purchase in any flesh she could reach.

Nick struggled to kick her off of him. A claw coming down and ripping into his shoulder. Pain spread through his body as quick as lightning. Crackled down into his flesh like he was thrown into a searing hot pan. He let out a stream of unintelligible cusses and he moved his other arm to hold his damaged shoulder.

A loud boom resounded above him, making his ears ring. More cusses fell from his mouth as he tried to get the spinning feeling out of his head.

Above him Rochelle stood, shotgun in hand, barrel still smoking.

The witch had dropped to the floor her head now but a mess of gore and bits.

She put down her gun to circle around Nick to help him up.

He grabbed her hand and groaned as he slowly rose to his feet. Laboured breathing and hands shaking with the steady decline of the boost of adrenaline his body had supplied him with.

“Let’s never, ever, ever, let that happen again.” He didn’t mean to sound as bitter as he did. “What the hell even made that noise?”

“Whatever it was, we’re gonna have trouble. Especially after using my gun like that.” As if on queue, shrill screams could be heard resounding off the university walls. Rochelle grabbed Nick's good arm to pull him into a nearby utilities closet. Groups of infected starting to emerge from their hiding places.

“Great. Great. This is wonderful!” Nick dragged out, sarcasm not lost on him, even in his beat up state. If this is where he was gonna die, he sure as hell was going to be one sour bastard about it.

“This is not good. Shit.” Rochelle looked around the small closet, as if it would give her an answer to their problems.

“Think you can shoot?”

Nick shot her a scowl but decided against another sarcastic remark. “With my good arm yeah, toss me your pistol.” Not a chance he’d be able to use his injured arm with any sort of larger gun. Not unless he wanted to lose the function of that arm all together.

She removed her pistol from its holster on her waist and handed it to nick. Who nodded a quick thanks in return, doubling as well that he was ready for whatever sort of plan she wanted to scheme up and run through.

She positioned her shotgun in her arms and got ready to push out into the crowd of the infected.

The lot of them rushed past, tripping and pushing their way over the other infected in a mad scramble to get down the stairs.

Rochelle had a sneaking suspicion that the other two survivors had a part to play in what was currently happening. She needed to meet back up with them and get the group to safety.

**Author's Note:**

> This took me awhile but I'm finally glad to have posted this, there will be more chapters in the future but as of how many is still... blurry.
> 
> A special thanks to my beta and bestest worstest friend Felix. She added in "I’ve heard that tank down there can do a pretty good keg stand" which I removed and then she promptly declared I betrayed her. Thanks feli, love u too.


End file.
